Clara Meets The Parents (Clara Andrews #2) (9 page)

BOOK: Clara Meets The Parents (Clara Andrews #2)
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Chapter 24

 

Applying blusher to the apples of my cheeks, I stare back at my reflection. The result of a few days in the sun really is remarkable. The pale skin that I normally spend hours bronzing is now golden brown and the surge in vitamin D is making my eyes sparkle brightly under the moonlight.  The crisp air has cleared out my lungs, leaving me feeling energized and refreshed. Not to mention the magic salty sea water that has done wonders for my cellulite

Fiddling with a stray strand of hair, my eyes land on the hotel calendar. I am disheartened to see that we have almost reached the halfway point in the holiday. I am nowhere near ready for home yet. To be fair, I can’t wait to see Marc and Lianna, not to mention Madison. I haven’t been gone a week, but judging by the many pictures that Marc has been sending, she looks like she has been blown up with a foot pump. Like a ridiculously cute, little Michelin man.

My mind wonders back to Oliver and the prospect of moving to America. Could I really leave my friends behind? I know they could visit, but how often would that be realistically? I would miss them like crazy. Or am I being silly? Am I throwing away a potentially life changing opportunity for the sake of a social life? Let’s face it, Lianna is getting married, Marc has a baby. Everyone’s moving on, why should I get left behind?

As much as I want to sit and ponder my future, my grumbling stomach encourages me to get a move on. With a final slick of mascara, I pop a lip gloss and my phone into a clutch bag and flick off the light. I may not know what I want in the future, but I know what I want right now and that’s food, lots and lots of food.

 

Scouring the menu, I feel totally torn. Is it bad etiquette to order two mains? Taking a sip of mineral water, my eyes dart between the dishes. Why is it that when you’re hungry, everything sounds amazing? Even the calamari has me salivating and I don’t even like squid!

The restaurant is in a stunning new building located at the top of the resort, with a beautiful view of the hotel grounds. As the sun went down hours ago the sky is almost back, but the air is still as warm as ever, even with the powerful air conditioning. No sooner had we took our seats, Oliver and Randy disappeared for a game of pool, leaving Janie and I alone.

For the past thirty minutes, I have been filling Janie in on my life back home. Work, friends, family. Not that I am sure she is really listening, although her ears did prick up at the mention of a company discount. Just as I am about to run out of steam, Randy appears at the table looking rather pleased with himself.

‘I’m guessing you won?’ Leaning back in my chair, I look behind him at an annoyed Oliver.

‘Yes ma’am. The boy never learns.’ Laughing, he slaps Oliver on the back and collapses into his seat. ‘Let’s order, I’m starving.’

It takes only a matter of seconds for us to order pretty much the entire menu. Bread, starters, mains, desserts - I mustn’t be the only one that was hungry. Daydreaming about the spicy salmon, my attention is dragged back to the table at the mention of weddings.

‘So, she is walking down the aisle, pretty as picture. Only she gets to the alter and her father trips on her veil, ripping it clean off. She was so mad! I mean the air was blue!’ Randy wraps his arm around Janie and she manages a stiff smile. ‘It’s a good job we knew the pastor well! Are you a member of the church, Clara?’

His question is innocent enough, but I know that I have to tread carefully here. One wrong answer could turn things upside down. What should I say? Don’t they know it’s rude to discuss religion or politics at the dinner table? Thinking of how to put it as diplomatically as possible, I glance at Oliver for help. Frustratingly, he smiles back bemused.

‘No, I’m not, although I do see myself as a deeply spiritual person.’ Hoping that this will be an acceptable answer, I chew the inside of my cheek anxiously.

‘Would you get married in a church?’ Janie turns to face me with an expression that I can’t quite read.

‘Err, umm, well, I’m not too sure to be honest. We haven’t really spoken about marriage...’ I look down at the table nervously, feeling my face burn up.

By ‘haven’t really’, I mean never, so this is rather awkward. To tell you the truth, I can’t really believe that someone like Janie is religious. The woman goes topless on the beach in nothing more than a zebra print thong for crying out loud! Before the conversation can get any more uncomfortable, I am saved by a rather intoxicated, beautiful woman in the form of Erica, who throws herself onto my lap.

‘Erica! Wow! You look amazing!’ I’m not just being polite here, she really does. The skin tight, red bodycon dress gives her a figure even Jessica Rabbit would envy. ‘How are you?’

‘I’m great! Tequila! Lobster! What’s not to love?’ The scent of alcohol is overpowering and I try not to gag. Cupping her hands to her mouth, she hollers across the restaurant. ‘LP! Get your ass over here!’

The entire restaurant turns around as LP strides across the room. I feel Oliver squeeze my leg under the table and pretend not to notice. I know that he isn’t their biggest fan, but I am not letting him be rude again.

‘Everyone, this is my husband, LP.’ Jumping to her feet, Erica pushes him forward proudly.

A chorus of hellos echo around our group and I notice Janie’s jaw drop. Not that I can blame her.

‘Well, aren’t you a dish? It’s a shame I’ve ordered my dessert, otherwise I’d eat you right up!’ Janie unashamedly blurts out without a hint of blush.

Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for poor Oliver who has turned as red as a Bloody Mary. The worst part is, we all know she isn’t joking.

 

 

4.14pm

To: [email protected]

From : [email protected]

Subject : RE - PAYMENT PLAN

Dear Mrs Morgan,

In response to your query we are pleased to inform you that we have many payment plans for all of our procedures. Please contact our office direct for exact interest rates on 555 GET BIG 1.

Thank you,

A. Sleazeman

Chapter 25

 

Much to Oliver’s annoyance, Erica pulls over a couple of chairs and instructs the flustered waiter to bring their remaining courses over to our table. Attempting to shuffle our seats around, we make space for the unexpected guests. Within a matter of minutes, we have become a table of six and the already crowded table has become even more cramped. Not that Janie seems to mind, I have never seen her move so quickly. For the past ten minutes, LP has been revealing the inside secrets of Hollywood’s most wanted and it has turned her into a giggling mess. Erica meanwhile seems oblivious to Janie’s flirtations. Leaning across the table suggestively, she seems to be enjoying winding up Oliver up a little too much.

‘So, what were you guys talking about before we rudely interrupted?’ Flashing me a wink, Erica reaches for Oliver’s glass and takes a big slug. Oh dear. I don’t even dare look at him.

‘Weddings! Our wedding day was eventful to say the least.’ He clocks the huge platinum band on her finger. ‘That’s some rock! What’s your story?’ Glad to have Erica’s attention, Randy looks like the cat that got the cream.

As she fills them in on the whirlwind romance that led to a little white chapel, I take the opportunity to study LP. He is very handsome, as you would expect from a man married to Erica. I know she said he was a music producer, but Simon Cowell he is not. With his impressive physique, ridiculous height, chiselled jaw and mirrored sunglasses, he could easily pass for a major celebrity. Not that I have any idea why he is wearing sunglasses at night, but somehow he manages to pull it off.

Now that I have put a face to the name, I can kind of understand why Oliver isn’t his biggest fan. He must be intimidating to other men, even men as successful as Oliver. The staggering confidence alone is enough to make you feel a little unnerved. Maybe the green eyed monster is rearing its ugly head. Let’s face it, there’s a little jealousy in all of us, but if I have to share a planet with J.Lo, he can deal with LP.

The delicious smell of freshly baked bread brings me out of my daydream as the waiter places a steaming bowl of soup down on the table, along with an enormous basket of bread. Picking up a crusty roll, I dunk into the bowl and take a big bite. God, that’s good! With hurricane Erica storming the party I had almost forgotten how hungry I was. Looking around the table, I realise that I am the only one eating. Too greedy to be bothered about manners, I carry on regardless.

Happily stuffing my face with the yummy bread, I must be almost finished by the time everyone else picks up their spoons, every one apart from Erica that is, who nibbles on a tiny olive slowly. The table falls into silence as we tuck into our food. The only sound comes from LP’s phone, which vibrates violently on the table. Excusing himself to take the call, I catch Janie unashamedly checking him out as leaves. Unbelievable.

‘What do you guys have planned for the rest of the vacation? We should do something.’ Slurring slightly, Erica taps her manicured nails on the table.

‘We have a pretty packed schedule.’ Oliver retorts, tearing off a chunk of baguette.

Now I know that’s a lie. It was only this morning that we agreed on spending the rest of the holiday relaxing. What is his problem?

‘Come on! You must have a little spare time?’ Erica smiles devilishly at him as he stares stonily back.

‘Like I said, we have a pretty packed schedule.’ Picking up his glass, he drains the contents in one swift gulp.

‘OK... well what about you, Clara?’ Flinging her arms around my neck, she plants a big red kiss on my chin. ‘Think you can squeeze me into your diary? We could go to that shopping centre down town if you fancy it?’

‘I’ll go shopping with you.’ Randy mumbles and is soon rewarded with a dig in the ribs from Janie.

‘Actually, yes. How about tomorrow?’ I shoot Oliver a defiant look. ‘The hotel left some discount vouchers in the room, so we might as well use them.’

Erica spins around that fast she nearly falls off her chair. ‘See, Clara can find the time for me!’

Standing up like Bambi on ice, she steadies herself on Janie’s shoulders. ‘I’m gonna find my husband. Clara honey, I will see you tomorrow.’ She sounds quite upset.

With a final wave, she totters off towards LP, who is talking animatedly on the phone by the bar.  We all watch as they order a bottle of champagne and make their way towards the door.

‘I would prefer it if you wouldn’t go tomorrow.’ Oliver puts down his knife and fork with a clatter.

‘Come on! You can prise yourself away from the little lady for one day.’ Randy laughs teasingly.

‘Yes, I’m sure you can spare me for the afternoon.’ I stare at Oliver, wondering what has gotten into him. Whatever it is, I am not letting him get to me. Turning to Janie and Randy, I smile at them innocently. ‘You guys don’t mind, right?’

‘Not at all! You go enjoy yourself.’ Randy shakes his head and reaches for more bread.

Thankfully, Oliver gives me a small smile and wraps his arm around my shoulders as the waiter removes our plates. Satisfied that I won’t be missed, I reach for my glass.

‘Dad’s right, I’m just being selfish. You go have fun.’ Planting a quick kiss on the tip of my nose, he gives my shoulder a little squeeze and all is right with the world again.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 26

 

Snuggled into Oliver’s toasty warm back, I stretch out my legs as the sun shines through the open window. I am debating rolling over for another forty winks when the hotel phone rings loudly, jolting me into action. Being trapped beneath layer upon layer of bedding makes it difficult to escape, meaning I don’t get to the handset until the eighth ring.

‘Hello?’ Trying not stumble on the stupidly long wire, I drop back down on the bed next to a loudly snoring Oliver.

‘Mrs Morgan?’ The squeaky voice comes down the line.

‘It’s actually Miss Andrews, but yes that’s me.’ I reply, rubbing my tired eyes as I try to wake up.

‘This is a message from Mrs Washington in Suite 304.’ Mrs Washington? Who the hell is Mrs. Washington?

‘The message is, meet me in Reception at 11.00am. Do not be late.’ Oh, God! Erica! I totally forgot! What time is it now? My eyes flit to the alarm clock flashing 10.40am. ‘Do you need me to repeat the message?’

‘No. That’s fine, I got the message. Thank you very much.’ Slamming down the phone, I look around for my watch.

Finally locating it on top of the dressing table, I strap it to my wrist hurriedly, wincing as it pinches the hairs on my arm. It takes me five minutes to select a sun dress and another two to run a toothbrush over my teeth, before I tackle my crazy, bouffant hair. With only moments left to go until I really have to leave, I don’t have that many options. Not that it really matter. I mean we are only going shopping after all.

Settling on a tight ballerina bun, I scribble out a quick note for Oliver. With a final glance in the not so forgiving bathroom mirror, I make for the door. Good God, I hope there’s time for coffee.

 

Leaning against the marble Reception desk, I smile sympathetically at the queue of depressed guests waiting to check out. There’s nothing more depressing than handing over your all inclusive wristband and stepping back out into reality. It almost feels wrong when you are expected to start paying for things again.

Strolling over to the bar, I prop myself up on a stool and eye up the croissants greedily. I must have been waiting here for fifteen minutes. Where the hell is Erica?  I am about to give up and head back to bed when I hear the clacking of stiletto heels on the tiled floor behind me. Turning around in my seat, my jaw almost hits the floor when I realise it is Erica. Why is she dressed like that? I thought she said we were going shopping? The entire room spins around to look at the beautiful, if not a little slutty woman.

‘Clara! Good mornin! How are you?’ Passing me a giant cup of coffee, she smiles brightly. ‘I didn’t know how you take it, so I got it black.’ My fingers curl around the cup and I am surprised to find it ice cold. I’m still trying to get my head around the whole cold coffee thing.

‘You look very... nice. I thought you said we were going shopping?’ My eyes widen as they take in the tiny, black shorts, patent heels and perfectly curled locks. She looks like a Megan Fox body double. Well that, or a high end porn star.

‘Honey, we aren’t just going shopping. This is going to be a whole new experience for you. I’m taking you Erica Shopping.’ Taking a sip of the iced, rocket fuel, I raise my eyebrows worriedly. ‘I’m talking, cocktails, pedicures, more cocktails, a little shopping and then perhaps a final cocktail before we get started.’

Before we get started? From how drunk she was last night in the restaurant, I can’t believe she can even look at another cocktail. I look down at my jelly flip flops and yellow Billabong dress dubiously. ‘Erm, I’m not sure I am dressed right for cocktails. Give me a minute and I’ll go change.’

‘Honey, you look fine. Now come on, let’s go.’ Linking her long, skinny arm through mine, she marches me outside into the sunshine.

We walk along the hot pavement in silence, stopping only to dispose of the now luke warm coffees. My feet are starting sweat, making me regret my decision to wear cheap, plastic flip flops. Trying to keep up with Erica is proving hard work. How is she walking that fast in those heels? Just as I am going to question her superhuman abilities, she drags me into a store. Thankful for the air conditioning, I exhale a sigh of relief.

‘This would look insane with your colouring!’ Erica holds up a tangerine, slinky dress to my chest and nods approvingly.

‘Really? I tend to stay away from orange.’ Flipping over the price tag, I place the expensive dress back on the rail.

‘Trust me, you need this dress.’ Snatching it back, she drops it into a basket. ‘My treat. What about the black?’

Two minutes of shopping and I am already feeling uneasy with Erica’s way of doing things. I can’t afford that dress and I most certainly can’t let Erica buy it for me.

‘I say we get both.’ Holding up a spiked pair of Louboutins, she beckons over the assistant. ‘Clara, check out these bad boys!’

‘Erica, wait a minute.’ Pulling her to one side, I take the shoes and run my fingers over the soft leather. They are pretty amazing. ‘I can’t afford all this stuff. I don’t mind shopping for you though. In fact, I am a great personal shopper, just ask Lianna.’

‘Who? Sweetie, I have more money than I could ever wish to spend. We’re getting them.’

‘No!’ I shout, a little louder than I anticipated. ‘I can’t let you do that, although it is an extremely generous offer.’

‘Clara, listen to me. I have put up with a lot of shit over the past ten years, if I wanna spend LP’s cash, I’ll will.’ Erica studies my face for a moment, before dropping them into her basket. ‘What are you a 7? Give me those thongs!’

‘Excuse me?’

‘Your shoes! Hand them over!’

Before I have chance to retaliate, the eager sales assistant appears at her side and snatches a flip flop straight from my foot.

‘Glass of champagne while you browse, Miss?’

Champagne? What kind of shop gives out complimentary champagne? Not one that I have ever shopped in before that’s for sure. Nodding in awe, I watch as she rushes over to the counter and pulls out a bottle of bubbles from a tiny fridge, along with two frosty glasses. Erica was right. This really is a new experience for me. An experience I could easily become very accustomed to. Picking up a pair of navy, suede courts, I hold them in the air.

‘Do these come in black?’

BOOK: Clara Meets The Parents (Clara Andrews #2)
11.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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